Holding Hands
by danderson
Summary: It's still Valentine's Day where I live! It wouldn't let me post this earlier...


He takes her hand so softly, she almost doesn't feel him until he's squeezing, adding pressure and smiling faintly to himself at the mere notion of touching her at all.

She thinks he's much too beautiful, _too beautiful_, and it scares her. But far be it for her to deny that his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure through her, and so she abides the moment of tenderness.

They're walking through the grounds of Shiz and she's already said she hates this day - it's just an excuse to buy things like chocolate and flowers and he laughed when she said it because she's so unique. Because his ex would have demanded diamonds. Because it was yet another moment when he knew he'd fallen for the perfect girl.

He has several moments like that in a day.

Now they're by the lake and the moon makes the black, rippling sheet look like someone has cut pieces out of it and let light shine through from underneath. It's transfixing, to watch the small peaks catch the glow, but he's not under that spell for long because in the end it's always the spell of _her_ that gets him.

He pulls her into his arms and tenderly thumbs her cheek and down her jaw to tilt her chin upward and kisses her. Like taking her hand, it starts off soft, unbearably soft. Ghosts of kisses land on her lips and her eyes flutter closed. He loves to see that she enjoys his touch, and smiles to himself again, wondering how he got so lucky as to be with her.

Like the hand holding before it, the kiss increases pressure until she makes a contented 'mmm' sound and they're both smiling while trying to keep the kiss going but it's impossible, so they pull apart and look out at the lake, their cheeks pressed together.

He's nervous, of course he is, because it was foolish to get her something, but he couldn't resist. And now he has to give it to her, he's not sure why. Some compulsion to give her things, perhaps because she never asks for them. His hand slides into his pocket and pulls it out. He reaches for her hand again and pulls it to his chest, glancing at her face. She smiles, but doesn't take her gaze from the moon, instead enjoying the feel of his sternum thrumming with the beats of his heart.

She'd have never thought she could raise a man's heart rate. But from the first time he demonstrated it, she's been hooked. It's her small indulgence in pride and vanity that doesn't relate to having brains or biting sarcasm.

Her hand is on his chest often, so she doesn't pay attention until the bracelet is clasped around her wrist. Her gaze slides to it, she's surprised, and she lifts her arm in front of her face to gaze at the delicate white gold strands that wrap around each other.

The look on her face shows him she thinks it's too much, and she opens her mouth to say so, but he shakes his head, kissing her to silence her. The look of content on his face, the adoration in his smile and shining in his eyes say all he needs to. He loves her. He'd buy her the whole world if he thought she'd find use for it. Though, if she owned it, it would probably be a better place. He'll consider the purchase of the world at another time.

For now, he's caught up in her. She's still looking at him in wonder, and he shrugs. If only he could show her how mystically beautiful she truly was, especially now, in the moonlight, with the moon beams bouncing off the water and playing on her face. He imagines the vision all over her skin and his mouth goes dry.

He kisses her again, threading his hands through her hair. She melts into it, running her hands over his shoulders and around his neck, and they kiss until his kisses wander to her neck. Now, they're not kissing, he's just kissing her.

She adores it.

Eventually, they pull apart, gazing into each other's eyes, and he sits, pulling her to lean against his chest, between his legs, and he wraps his arms around her, holding her close. His hand slides down her arm and he takes her wrist in it, holding it up a little. "The two bands entwining represent two people, the fact that they wrap around each other represents love," he murmurs.

She turns slightly in her arms to kiss him. "It's beautiful," she whispers. "Thank you so much."

"I love you, Fae."

"I love you, too."

They settle into each other, and he massages her shoulders, enjoying being able to touch her after months of longing to. He remembers the inspiration for this day, that apparently some saint pierces the hearts of people with a Love Arrow, causing them to fall in love. He knows it's just a story, but he can't help feeling like something permanently inserted this woman into his heart, and can't help feeling grateful that whatever it was that made him fall for her, worked in his favour to make her fall for him.

"Yero?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I didn't get you anything," she laments, her voice steeped with regret.

"Yes you did," he smiles.

He takes her hand so softly, she almost doesn't feel him until he's squeezing, adding pressure and smiling faintly to himself at the mere notion of touching her at all.


End file.
